Sunday, September 8, 2013

A Walk in the City

Because our treadmill is broken, I decided to walk "around the block." Now, our block is so long, it takes me at least 45 minutes to walk; it's that big. Row after row of apartment complexes, townhomes, condos, and office buildings. Sounds fun, huh? Not for someone with OCD over horizontal lines, cracks, and shadows.




I first knew I was in trouble when the spaces between the cracks in the sidewalk did not match my walking stride. I was walking down a major street of Houston, trying dodge the lines with my feet. It worked muscles in my pelvis area I didn't know I had, so I guess that is one good thing. I passed the Methodist Church whose sign mentioned something about stress, and I thought, "Yeah, this is pretty stressful." I can't imagine what I looked like from a passing car, like a fat, walking candy cane, my head bent over to look for the next line. My neck muscles were starting to throb before I reached the next corner. I finally realized that there was no possible way I was going to be able to dodge every horizontal line without either falling over or dying of embarrassment. Just when I talked myself into the fact that it was okay to touch every third line and I had gotten my rhythm down, the spaces between the lines changed, small in size. And to make matters worse, construction crews had painted flourescent orange lines and letters on the sidewalk. I looked at my watch. I had only been walking for eight minutes.




Why do I do this to myself? I continued on around the corner, dodging cars as they came in and out of parking lots and beginning what I didn't realize would be what seemed the longest stretch of sidewalk. But at least there was a sidewalk. Read down the page to understand this comment. After I passed yet another church, I began to relax somewhat as the cracks were now farther apart and there was actually a nice breeze blowing in the 94 degree weather. I was now claiming this sidewalk as my own. It was now almost 5:45 p.m. I passed two weedeating yard men and cautiously avoided touching their lines of cut grass which were laying in the middle of "my" sidewalk.




I knew it was too good to be true. About halfway down the block, when I was finally starting to pick up some good steam and get a little bit of cardio in, I came upon a stretch of sidewalk that looked like it had been blasted with jackhammers.










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